IOTF Ch 15

When I returned to the hotel, there was a strange, subdued feeling in the air.

From the first-floor lobby, men in black suits stood out, and there were no tourists with large suitcases or sunglasses. Normally, there’d be plenty of families checking in, but today the atmosphere was oddly quiet, as if an invisible line had been drawn, with clusters of men gathered here and there.

Woosung was the same. As soon as we reached the lobby, he shut his mouth. Sticking close to my side, he wore a scowl, looking ready to throw a punch if anyone picked a fight. When we got to the elevator, Woosung pressed the button. As the doors opened, the guy we called Pig, who hung around with Woosung, bowed his head in greeting.

“Hello.”

He stepped aside as if urging us to get in. The doors closed, and when we reached the 35th floor, Woosung and Pig stepped out first. I was about to swipe the hotel key and turn the doorknob when Woosung stood in front of me and said, as if giving a warning,

“It might get a bit noisy outside today. But there won’t be any loud commotion. If you need anything, tell Daesung, this guy here.”

“Where are you going, Woosung?”

“I’ve got to head upstairs for a bit. He’s like a little brother to me, so feel free to boss him around. The boss will call later, so make sure you pick up.”

It didn’t seem like anything special. So I nodded, and Woosung watched me until I stepped into the hotel room.

The door closed, and an odd feeling crept in. Just in case, I peeked out through the peephole. Woosung and Pig were talking with serious expressions. Pig nodded as Woosung spoke. Then three men in suits walked down the hallway. Woosung joined them and headed toward the elevator. Now, only Pig stood outside the door. I watched up to that point before pulling my eye away from the peephole.

What’s today about? But the boss hadn’t said much. He’d just told me to hold out for a few days, and honestly, as long as I stayed in this room, there was nothing to be cautious about. All I had to do was answer his calls, eat, and sleep. If anyone needed to be careful, it was him, so I felt the strangeness but didn’t dwell on it.

As I started to take off my clothes and open the closet, I noticed the black USB still sitting in its place.

It was in plain sight, yet it hadn’t been touched by him. Then again, the boss had been so exhausted lately, barely sleeping. Trying to have sex on top of no rest, he probably hadn’t had time to rummage through the closet.

Or maybe it wasn’t that important, so he didn’t bother with it.

I stripped off all my clothes and opened the bathroom door. I was tired from the rare outing.

For some reason, I craved a beer from early evening. The vibe outside was chaotic, and it didn’t seem like the boss would be back soon. I ordered a wood-fired pizza and beer for dinner, adding a side salad.

I clicked on movies I’d already seen, about to turn up the volume, when the phone rang.

Picking up the receiver by the bed, I heard the boss’s voice.

—Sunjung-ah, how was your outing?

“Yeah. I got back a bit ago and showered. I’ve got a movie on and was about to eat dinner.”

—Hospital went okay?

“Yeah. They said I don’t need to go to the dermatologist anymore. The herbal clinic said I’m fine too. There’s some minor bruising, but it’ll clear up naturally with daily life. Oh, and—”

I lowered the TV volume.

“I saw your aunt.”

I offered it like it was surprising news, but the boss didn’t react much.

—Oh?

“It was the eldest aunt I met at the meat place. I ran into her in front of the dermatologist.”

—And?

“I greeted her and told her my name. She knew me as Sunjung.”

Voices came from the other side of the line. A high-pitched male voice—it sounded like the one I’d heard through the boss’s phone that morning.

—What else did she say?

“Hm. She really cares about you a lot. She didn’t say much, but I could feel how much she treasures you.”

Thinking back, she really hadn’t said much. It was just the dick comment that led to me talking back twice, and I’d realized she didn’t see me in a good light.

—She didn’t bother you?

“No. She asked my name, my age, and that was it.”

It seemed he’d already told her about me. Even if he hadn’t, in this small Yeonsan scene, rumors of the boss dragging around a young host would’ve made it obvious what we were.

—That’s it?

“Yeah. Just greeted her like that and…”

—There’s more, Sunjung-ah.

Did he know something? I rolled my eyes while holding the phone to my ear.

—Didn’t she add something else?

Oh. I realized it then and gripped the phone tighter. Woosung had been there, so he must’ve passed it on.

“She told me to get rid of my dick, and I said no. It wasn’t serious—just, since I’m a guy, she probably said it like that.”

—She sure made a fuss, huh.

“I wasn’t great either. I talked back, saying I wouldn’t remove it in front of her.”

I expected a scolding, but laughter burst out instead. His laugh cut off the chattering high-pitched voice on the other end. Then came, “What? What’s so funny? What is it!” but he ignored it completely and asked me,

—Sunjung said that?

“She asked if I’d have a kid if I didn’t remove it, so I said I’d have it if it happened. She probably cursed me out as a rude, ill-mannered brat.”

—Good job. You know how much I love it when you get your dick up. What’s the point if you cut it off? I’d have to suck it at least a hundred times. Right?

“…Isn’t someone listening?”

—Worried?

“It sounds like someone’s there.”

Or not. Then again, this guy always had a knack for crude, low-class talk. He’d toss out sexual jokes in front of his crew, laughing it up, oblivious to anything wrong with it.

“Anyway, that’s what happened. If I was rude, I’ll apologize next time.”

—Forget that. Why’d you take off the watch, Sunjung? I told you not to until I said so.

Oh, shit. I’d forgotten I’d taken it off to shower after getting back.

“I took it off to wash.”

—…

“Isn’t it fine to take it off in the room?”

He went quiet for a moment. Maybe that wasn’t the right answer—he even made a low “Hmm” sound.

—Don’t do what I tell you not to. Especially when I say it’s not a request.

“Oh… okay… Should I put it back on now?”

—Nah, it’s fine for today. Eat dinner and rest. I’ll sleep next to you tonight, even if it’s late.

The call ended, and my ears felt oddly numb. I stared at my bare wrist.

How did he know I’d taken off the watch? It wasn’t a video call…

Tilting my head, I glanced at the ceiling. Was there a CCTV up there? But I decided to drop it. I just replayed his words—I’ll sleep next to you tonight, even if it’s late—and turned up the TV volume again, cracking open a beer can.

I ate an early dinner and was about to go to bed when a noise from outside woke me.

Checking the time, it was just past midnight. Getting out of bed and walking to the door, I heard hurried footsteps growing louder. Amid the bustling sounds, men’s muffled voices mixed in.

What’s with all this chaos? It’d been off since I got back from the hospital, and now it felt like something had finally gone down. Slightly scared, I peeked through the peephole. Woosung’s words about it possibly getting noisy came to mind. Pressing my eye to the hole, I saw men in suits moving around.

I couldn’t see clearly, but they seemed to be searching for something. Some had bloodstains on their shirts.

My heart throbbed. Was this a gang fight? Just then, the elevator dinged open. Woosung, breathing heavily, rushed down the hall.

He spoke to the big guys guarding my door. Moments later, they disappeared toward the emergency stairs.

My chest felt oddly heavy. I pulled my eye away, hesitating. I knew staying in the room was fine, but my mind kept spinning wild scenarios.

Had something gone wrong with the boss’s work? If so, I shouldn’t get involved and just wait quietly for him. Had those so-called clients he was dealing with pulled knives? If that was it, I absolutely couldn’t leave this room. Then a knock came. Startled, I stepped back from the door as a voice called out.

“It’s Woosung.”

Hearing him, I opened the door without checking.

“What’s going on?”

“Oh, it’s nothing big. An actor kicked up a fuss and ran off inside here, but we’ll catch him soon. Don’t worry, and don’t open the door for anyone knocking.”

An actor? Kicked up a fuss and ran?

“Sorry for waking you. I rushed down ‘cause it’s a mess. Just go back in, lock the door, and the boss will be down soon.”

Even then, Woosung flashed me a grin. But urgency clung to his smile, and his lip was split, like he’d taken a hit.

Something had definitely happened, but I didn’t want to get involved. I shut the door and covered my ears. Yet the chaos outside continued. Footsteps pounded, and the elevator kept going up and down. Knowing I should tune it out, I still pressed my eye to the peephole again—and flinched in shock.

It was definitely a person. In the middle of the hall, someone stood precariously, barely holding on.

A slender figure in a slip. Short hair made it hard to tell if it was a man or woman. Barefoot on the red carpeted floor, too flat-chested for a woman. A black cloth was around their neck, and fear hit me first.

They’d clearly been through something rough. Realizing something was terribly wrong, I opened the door without thinking.

At the sound, the person in the slip collapsed. Our eyes met, and chills ran through me. Mascara streaked down a man’s face. He wore women’s underwear, a cord around his neck. Pale with fright, something wet dripped between his legs.

Stunned, I didn’t know what to say. The big guys guarding my door were gone. This seemed like the actor Woosung and the others were after, and he’d ended up right in front of me.

“Are you… an actor?”

He couldn’t speak. Realizing I wasn’t a thug and wouldn’t hurt him, he shook his head, piss streaming down as if by instinct.

“…Th-this… I didn’t know it’d be like this… I was dragged here… I really didn’t know…”

Tears fell as his face looked pitiful yet beautiful. I hadn’t pegged him as a man at first because, even from afar, his features were strikingly pretty.

“Really… save me… those people, they’ll kill me…”

What had happened to him? Wearing something a man shouldn’t, a black band around his neck—why was he facing me now?

I stepped toward him, door still open. Even if I grabbed clothes to cover him, it’d be useless. As long as he was here, he’d be caught, and there was nothing I could do.

“Sorry, but I can’t help you. I can’t even call the police.”

He burst into sobs. As he crumpled, a familiar smell hit me—the same one the boss brought in at dawn. Hard to describe—bitter, sharp, like marijuana, weed.

“S-save me… please… they’ll really kill me!”

Red needle marks dotted the arm clinging to me. Bruises and cigarette burns marked where he’d been tied up. Goosebumps rose. My chest tightened as everything pieced together into a bigger picture.

“Who did this?”

“I-I followed Hiyoshi-san.”

“Who’s Hiyoshi?”

“Kindar Production’s… casting manager. He said if I went to Korea, he’d make me an actor…”

“You’re Japanese?”

He shook his head frantically.

“I was a student… studying abroad. But I went to a hostess bar, got offered a host job… host…”

My vision buzzed. A host? Sure, hosting in Korea and Japan differed, but it was the same gig. It seemed they’d lured a young student into hosting, and this was the result. I had to ask the question swirling in my head.

“Is Kindar an AV company?”

He couldn’t answer, just sobbed. Collapsing fully, he wailed as the big guys would soon show up.

“They didn’t say it was like this! Just that my face would show a bit! I didn’t know I’d be ganged up on and beaten! Save me, save me! That Chinese guy and Korean boss will kill me!”

“…Korean boss?”

Then it came—footsteps. The crying man jerked his head up, startled. I turned too, and a man in a flashy Versace shirt stepped out from the emergency stairs, staring at us.

Yes, us. He looked between the man and me, tilting his head crookedly.

“What’s my Sunjung doing?”

At the boss’s appearance, the man in the slip trembled like he was seizing, sobbing harder. As he flailed toward me like a man driven to the edge, the boss’s cracked voice cut through.

“Touch him, and you’re really dead. If I kill you, the Chinese clients will lose their minds with joy.”

The man froze, arm raised, shaking. Stuck mid-reach, unable to move, the boss walked over the red carpet.

“You’ve been through it—you know our clients want something intense. Not just some SM shit—they want to see you suffer for real. They’re waiting with their dicks hard right now. To see your arms chopped off one by one. Got it?”

The threat reignited his sobs. He wailed and clung as if he’d die before they even took him.

“I-I was wrong… please spare me…”

“Then why’d you run? And why’d you try clinging to my Sunjung? He’s not supposed to know anything.”

The boss’s drowsy smile felt unreal. Making a man die alive like this, he was grinning—at me, saying, Sunjung-ah, come here. But I couldn’t go to him.

“Come here, Sunjung-ah.”

I shook my head without realizing it. I couldn’t move. He wiped the smile off his face, eyes narrowing sharply. Then hurried footsteps echoed from the emergency stairs.

“Take him.”

It was Kalbang in a black suit. He grabbed the man with gloved hands. As the piss he’d let out ran down the slip, the man sobbed and begged.

Save me. I was wrong.

I won’t do it again.

Smelling that stench and indescribable odor, I recalled the yakuza bastard who’d beaten me senseless. The first terror I’d ever felt—his foul breath, slimy heat. His huge hands tore flesh and crushed muscle. Blood burst, my body thrashed under the pain of being pounded. My vision turned red, certain my organs would break—that horrific moment flooded back now.

“S-stop it!”

My outburst halted Kalbang for a second.

“This isn’t right… no… this isn’t okay.”

My voice shook. I looked up at the boss.

“Boss, what the hell are you doing?”

But he didn’t answer. At some point, he’d started looking at me like a man without emotion.

“What are you doing…”

“What’s not right about it?”

“Taking a person without any consent…”

“He consented to start it. I don’t do shit without a contract. Too many bastards backtrack later. This guy stamped the contract and came to Korea. You heard him on the phone this morning—that whiny voice. He’s the actor that bastard brought.”

I remembered that voice—the high-pitched whining through the phone.

“He said he didn’t know it’d be like this! Just that his face would show, not that he’d be ganged up on and threatened…”

The boss’s lips curled up. He laughed like it was absurd, bending toward me.

“That’s for him to settle with the guy who brought him. I bought a random fucker for cash—paid exactly for that body. Whether it gets fucked up or not, that’s not my problem.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Realizing this was the boss I knew, my mind blanked, and I felt like collapsing.

“S-save me!! Please!!! Save me!!”

“Shut his mouth.”

“Ugh!! Aaaagh!!”

Kalbang clamped a gloved hand over his mouth. The pale, thin body was dragged off like a slaughtered animal. I spotted round bloodstains that must’ve come from the man’s hole in the slip. Soaked and pitiful. Even the piss he’d left was tinged with blood, forcing me to lower my head.

“The rumors… are they true?”

Staring at the boss’s shoes approaching, I asked about the suspicions I’d held all along.

“Is it true you pushed out the yakuza and took over their porn sites?”

“Those rumors going around?”

“…Don’t play dumb. I’m involved in this too.”

He went silent for a moment. Looking up, I saw an expression I’d never seen before. One that felt like he could kill even me…

“You locked me in a room with a yakuza and called the cops to raid it. Illegal prostitution. Attempted rape and assault. And I know you stabbed that yakuza bastard in the neck to keep him from going back home.”

While I lay unconscious, beaten to a pulp, I’d heard voices through my haze. Kalbang and Han Doopil talking—bits cut out, but I’d heard it clear enough.

“You never planned to hand over the two ace hosts. Using new drugs as bait to extort money—you never intended to play along. Even if it meant crossing the yakuza, you were out to crush them. You lured them into Korea, introduced me as a host. Tricked me, screwed the yakuza, and took their sites!”

My hands shook. Beyond my vision, red like back then, I was tearing into the boss’s most sordid side.

“Why go that far… Why ruin a perfectly fine person like that?”

“So you were interested in my business? You shrugged off doing the books, didn’t glance at the money I brought in—since when did my Sunjung turn into such a moral prick?”

He knelt in front of me. Staring at me trembling, he asked,

“Who do you think I am?”

“…”

“A guy obsessed with your hole? A sucker hooked on a host? Or do you think I’m some romantic who’d jump up at night for Lee Soyoon?”

His hand grabbed my chin. Like the first time he saw my face, his snake-like eyes flicked his tongue.

“I told you. Once I get paid, I rip out every organ. Since I half-crippled a guy at fourteen, no one’s dared touch me. Going to China alone as a teen—think about what I saw and went through. Call it studying abroad, but what I witnessed and learned there isn’t shit normal people experience.”

Sunjung-ah, he said, watching me with unfathomable eyes. Suddenly, my red vision blackened, filled only with his gleaming pupils.

“Don’t expect normal morals from me. No matter how much I like you, denying how I’ve lived is the same as seeing me as a fucking joke.”

His shining eyes politely warned me. Like this was the last line he’d tolerate—cross it, and I could end up like that guy.

“Will you… use me like that too?”

His expression shifted oddly at my words.

“Why say that?”

“Because you’re someone normal morals don’t reach, someone who could flip on a whim.”

His eyes wavered for the first time. Tilting his head, he slowly opened his mouth.

“So that’s how you see me? You really think I’d use you like that?”

It was entirely possible. No—even if he said he wouldn’t, I already knew what kind of bastard he was, what he was after. He was crazier about money than me, willing to do anything for it. Even if it was something I’d shudder at, something I’d suck and lick, he’d do it without hesitation.

“I don’t know who you are. I don’t get what kind of person you are, and… I just want to stop everything.”

Living like I’m caged, having a normal gender identity yet sleeping with a guy—I hated it all. I was a host, not some psycho like him. I didn’t want to be near him; the goosebumps made it impossible to stay.

“Stop?”

“I want to go back to how it was. Before I knew you, I want to go back.”

I couldn’t bear to look at the trail that man had left behind. I couldn’t keep living with the boss. I’d pretended to adjust, but I hadn’t. I’d thought I’d found a new, cozy fortress in him, but it was just a way to hide the reality of being ‘tied up like a dog.’

“What do you mean, Sunjung-ah?”

“I’m leaving Yeonsan. So let’s end this.”

I stood on my own. He said nothing. His expression didn’t even change. He silently watched me walk toward the open door. Just as I was about to step through—

“Sunjung-ah, you can’t go to Seoul.”

My heart sank, like it’d been slashed with a knife. Turning back, his calm voice hit me.

“I told you—I can’t live without you. That means you can’t escape me.”

His face was gentle. It felt like lightning struck overhead. That look made my reality—bound to him—all the more stark.

“Please… stop now…”

I rubbed my tear-filled eyes, about to cling to him, to beg him to leave me alone. But then he said something unexpected.

“Stop? This is just the start.”

“…”

“I’ll track down the bastard who stabbed you in the back, get all the money you’re owed. I’ll pay back the humiliation the Yankee fucker put you through. All you have to do is watch—what’s this about stopping?”

Huh? he asked, wrinkling his forehead. My breath stopped. How did he know all that? But if he wanted to, he could find out. I’d come through Jaehoon hyung’s intro, and I’d told him myself I’d been in Gangnam Marine City.

“You… know everything about me?”

“What? That you were framed as a drug mule? Or that a host and a madam teamed up to skim drugs, then ditched you when it went south? If it’s that, I know more than enough.”

Sunjung-ah, he called, stepping into the room. He pressed my dry lips with his hand. The face that’d been smiling turned obsessive, gleaming as he said,

“Don’t think I don’t know you. I’m crazier about you than you realize.”

He lifted my chin. A strange energy pulsed beyond his shining eyes, and I asked,

“Boss, do you like me?”

He made an “Hmm” face.

“I do. If a bitch like you vanished from my sight, I couldn’t sit still.”

He laughed, letting me go. But I couldn’t laugh. His piercing gaze scoured my insides, as if checking if I really meant to end this—and how serious I was.

“So don’t get any funny ideas and rest. Forget what happened earlier. Got it?”

His hand traced my jawline, then pressed my cheek hard. Tears welled up because of him, but I held them until he left and shut the door.

The door closed, and I crumbled. Like that man earlier, I collapsed and sobbed. The cries clawing up my throat didn’t fully burst, coming out in strange, choked gasps.

Even that felt pitiful, so I slammed my fist on the floor. Then I sprang up, flung open the closet, and yanked his clothes out, throwing them down. I hurled the case with his gold necklace and rings, shattering it. They scattered with a harsh clatter, but that wasn’t enough.

I grabbed one of his shirts and tore it. The silk ripped with a sharp sound, splitting the white dove pattern in half. The church cross design broke into pieces.

I have to leave. I want out. If I don’t get away from him, I’ll end up like that! Even if he doesn’t use me like that man, I’ll break mentally for sure.

Harsh breaths burst out as my red vision blurred. Panting, I clutched his torn shirt tightly. Looking at the mess I’d made, as if confirming it, I dropped my head.

I.

Hated that man so much.

˚｡⋆

The boss came in before dawn. Standing, he looked down at the wrecked room. After a few seconds of silence, he lifted me—passed out with a bottle—onto the bed and called the maid.

While the room was cleaned, he sat in the chair across from the bed, watching me for a long time. Staring at my booze-soaked face without a word, he ordered hangover soup from room service.

“Eat, Sunjung-ah.”

I didn’t. The liquor I’d chugged came up, and I ran to the bathroom. I puked into the toilet and collapsed. He picked up my filthy self, but I shoved my head back into the bowl.

Vomiting, fainting, vomiting, fainting—I lost count how many times. Waking up, an IV drip was attached, detox pumped in nonstop. I ripped out the needle and ordered more booze. While he was gone, I drank. Unable to stay sane, I lived drunk for days. After who-knows-how-long, he said,

“The guests are all gone.”

Drunk again, sprawled on the sofa, I lifted my head.

“…That guy got back safe too?”

“First thing you say in days is about some other bastard?”

“…I was worried you killed him. If you did, you’d be a murderer.”

Then I’d be the world’s most pitiful, unlucky host caught by a killer bastard.

I sneered at him with my eyes. He didn’t stop me. Didn’t tell me to quit drinking. In fact, he seemed glad I was holed up, drowning in booze.

He probably thought if I ruined myself like this, I’d give up on my own. That passed out drunk, I couldn’t do anything reckless.

But unlike my slumping body, my spirit didn’t die. Even looking like I’d given up, I felt my hardened will reviving like weeds—stepped on, yet rising. The idea of escaping this place, where I’d lived powerlessly tied to him, filled me so much my heart pounded.

Suppressing a hangover, I forced my eyes open. He still watched me, unbothered by how much I drank.

“Sunjung-ah, wanna drink outside today? I’d like to have one with you.”

What’s his angle? But with a splitting headache, I had no taste for liquor.

“Where you taking me?”

“There’s a place called Haemi Cape in Yeonsan—wanna go for some air? There’s a decent sushi spot too. If you’re good with it, I’ll book the whole place.”

I grunted in agreement and shuffled to the bathroom.

Since that day, he hadn’t pounced on me. But that didn’t mean he hid his lust. His eyes devoured me, marveling as I walked around naked from the bathroom.

Even now, showering with the door open, he leaned against the frame, watching.

“Wanna do it?”

He smirked at my question under the water.

“I’m not that much of a bastard. Would I demand your body when my Sunjung won’t open up? Gotta fix your mood first.”

Mood? Could you call it that? I’m so sick of him I shudder—could that turn into a “mood” issue?

I shook my head. Washing with fragrant body cleanser, I stepped out and dried my hair. The sky was so clear it felt transparent. Despite heading into winter, Yeonsan didn’t feel wintry.

“What should I wear?”

“Anything.”

He opened the now-tidy closet and pulled out clothes. A white angora knit and a stadium jacket with a bold brand logo. I put them on as he handed them over, and the waist was loose. Living on booze instead of food had melted my muscle away.

“Gotta buy you new clothes.”

“Nah, it’s fine. I’ll wear them big.”

“You hate shopping for clothes?”

I hate going anywhere with you. Even in crowds, he always pressed close somewhere. Before, I’d let it slide, but not now. I preferred spots away from eyes. Walking with him, pretending to be bold when I wasn’t, felt ugly.

Yeah, ugly.

To think that a man of such an age would not only fall for a young guy, sucking and licking him, but also go around bragging about it to his own family. That’s what’s ugly and unbecoming of his age—something no sane person could do.

Just then, the boss’s phone rang. It was the grayish one of the two he always carried.

“What.”

His voice was rough as he answered.

“I’ll bring him when the time’s right. He’s tired right now. He’s in a sensitive phase, so even I’m not bothering him—don’t pester me.”

The voice blaring through the phone was impossible to miss. It was so loud and furious that I could hear his eldest aunt yelling, “Bring him here right now!” all the way from here.

I pretended not to hear and slipped on the jacket. The boss, still on the call, couldn’t take his eyes off me. He was watching my still-damp hair and me lacing up my sneakers.

“Hang up.”

The call ended, and I stood in front of him, dressed in what he’d handed me. He smiled softly, stroking my cheek.

“My Sunjung’s pretty popular. They’re all looking for you at home.”

“You’re the one going around telling everyone.”

“Of course. You’re gonna be my wife—gotta show you off.”

A chill ran through me. I kept my eyes down to hide it.

“Wanna stop by for a bit? It’s on the way anyway.”

“Do whatever you want.”

I replied indifferently. He gazed at me with an unreadable look, as if gauging my reaction to being called his wife.

He’d chosen another flashy shirt today. As if he cared about our outing, he sprayed cologne, tossed the coat he’d been holding, and picked a beige one instead.

“Does this make us look more like a couple?”

…Disgusting. I didn’t respond. Looking like a couple with him wouldn’t do me any good.

We left the hotel and got in the car. He took the wheel and put me in the passenger seat. I buckled up and took in the changed scenery. While I’d been drowning in booze, people had started wearing thick clothes and holding warm coffee instead of iced Americanos.

“What’s the date today?”

“Twenty-third.”

Exactly a week, then. That meant it took me seven days to calm myself down.

“Christmas is coming soon.”

“Our first Christmas together.”

No, it won’t be. I won’t be here by then.

“What should we do that day?”

“Just eat some cake.”

“Gift?”

“A teddy bear.”

He turned to look at me. I avoided him, staring out the window.

“When I was a kid, I never had one of those dolls. My dad wasn’t the type to buy them, and my grandma only got me plastic robots.”

What I really wanted was a stuffed toy, but I couldn’t ask. I just watched the kids next door play with theirs.

“Symbolic meaning?”

“Yeah. I want to feel like there’s someone who’d buy me a doll to hug and sleep with warmly.”

“Then I’m perfect. I’m that person for you, Sunjung.”

Another shiver. My chest went cold as that man’s face—pissing himself in terror—flashed in my mind. Was he still alive? Had they gone beyond group beatings to film a snuff movie? How horrific must his pain have been, and had he crossed a point of no return?

Fear and unease gripped me. Now that all affection for this man had drained away, everything was crystal clear. I absently followed a tourist bus heading to Yeonsanpo Central Market with my eyes. Large airport limos lined up one after another. One, two, three—they passed, clogging the road. As the boss’s car swerved to avoid them, a thought struck me like lightning.

That’s it.

A tourist bus with no listed departure point. So-called “don’t-ask” tours—you board at a set spot and go wherever the driver takes you. No reservations needed, and you could get off anytime, anywhere. Yeonsan, being a tourist spot, had countless buses like that.

Yeonsanpo Central Market was a given, and you’d see them near beaches, seaside areas, hotels, and lodging spots too.

I shifted my gaze. I didn’t linger on the receding bus. The boss drove out of downtown, turning onto a road with a view of the sea. Soon, a familiar place came into sight. As a large meat restaurant appeared, he slowed down.

“We’ll just show our faces and leave.”

“Can’t we eat?”

I said it while eyeing the cars parked far off.

“Here?”

“Just feel like it. The meat here was good.”

He glanced at my face and nodded. The car stopped, and the door clicked open. I got out first, quickly scanning the area. Two tourist buses were parked in the large lot. It sounded lively—probably a group. The boss headed into the restaurant, split into two sections. As the door opened, the smell of grilling meat hit me, and staff greeted us.

A middle-aged woman bustling through the hall spotted us and waved.

“You’re finally here!”

She was decked out in a ribbon headband and heavy makeup again today. Her golf outfit had an upturned collar, adorned with gaudy gold accessories.

“Come in quick, honey. I’ve been running around for days trying to get something for my Geonwoo’s sweetheart.”

She handed over a bundle with a herbal pharmacy logo stamped on it.

“Made it with only the best stuff for your body. This is good for any man, no matter the constitution—just drink every packet straight down.”

“…”

“When I saw you at the hospital last time, you looked so gaunt it broke my heart. I went straight to the herbalist.”

Holding the heavy bundle, she urged me to chug a packet. I didn’t want to shove something unknown into my mouth. But her thickly made-up face lit up with expectant eyes.

Had my rudeness that day not fazed her? Or was this some high-level jab? Sadly, her temper matched her flashy appearance.

“Why’re you just standing there all dazed? Did I give you something bad or what?”

She unwrapped the bundle from my hands, pulled out a packet, shook it up and down, snipped it open with big meat-cutting scissors, and handed it to me.

“Here, drink it down. My nephew messed up this pretty face of yours—that’s why I went out of my way to get this special batch. Drink it all.”

The smell was brutal. Like it’d bring my hangover right back up. Unable to drink, I turned to the boss. He found the scene amusing, lounging with a smirk.

“Go on, drink it down!”

“…If the boss drinks too…”

“Leave him be! The bastard who ruined such a fine face doesn’t deserve any tonic. Drink it down.”

Definitely a jab. She yanked my hand up, shoving the pouch to my lips. Bitter liquid flooded in, making me cough—her grip was rough and relentless. No use resisting. She squeezed out every last drop before letting go, saying,

“How’s your skin so smooth? Like a newborn baby.”

She didn’t hold back praising me in front of the boss. She glared at her nephew, calling him a rotten bastard, but I knew what this was. The attention on me was really for him—begrudging favor because I was stuck with him.

Like giving an extra rice cake to a hated kid.

“I, uh, need the bathroom.”

Nausea surged, unbearable. I covered my mouth, still tasting the medicine, and left. Rushing into the bathroom, I froze. It was something on the sink.

A phone in a navy leather case—someone had clearly left it. Not mine, but my hand reached out. I opened the case without hesitation and tapped the screen. Shockingly, it wasn’t locked. No missed calls from someone looking for it either.

My heart raced. I knocked on the door to check—no one in the bathroom. Sure the owner wasn’t here, I swallowed hard. I quickly pressed the call function. No need to think about who to call. I dialed Jaehoon hyung’s number and peeked outside.

Hoping the owner would be three minutes late, the signal cut through.

—Yeah, I picked up.

“Hyung, it’s me.”

—What the hell, you crazy bastard!!

Jaehoon cursed the moment he answered. Yelling why I hadn’t been in touch, he demanded to know where I was.

“Still in Yeonsan.”

—They say you haven’t shown up at the shop! What the hell are you doing!

“You called Queens?”

—Of course, I had to know if you were dead or alive. You just stopped showing up one day and cut off—I was about to head to Yeonsan.

A light bulb went off in my head.

“Hyung, don’t come. You can’t.”

—What, you punk?

“If you do, I’ll come to you, hyung. Just get me a phone.”

—A phone?

“I’ll decide where we meet. I don’t know when, but it won’t take long. So, hyung, set up the phone and wait for me.”

No sign of anyone coming. Trembling, I glanced around and whispered,

“And lend me a few million. I’ll pay it back with work this year—get the money ready too.”

—Did you fuck up somehow?

“No, it’s not that. And hyung, has anyone been asking about me? Not Colin, but like gangsters…”

—What the hell are you doing to bring up gangsters, you lunatic!!

“Hyung, it’s not like that, really. Trust me. You know I don’t go back on my word.”

Footsteps approached. I said again,

“You have to trust me. Phone and cash—please.”

I hung up, deleted the call log, and put the phone back. A gray-haired man stumbled in, slightly drunk, and lit up when he saw the phone on the sink.

“There it is!”

I wiped my hands, pretending ignorance, and left. The boss was chatting with his aunt. Unlike earlier, a grill and table settings were out.

Walking to the table, I met his eyes. He tracked me with his gaze while talking to her.

“Puke?”

“No. Didn’t puke. Just rinsed my mouth.”

I wasn’t dumb enough to admit it even if I had. She seemed to buy it, slapping red meat on the grill and saying I should eat twice a day. She cut the cooked meat and put it on my plate. I chewed eagerly. My talk with Jaehoon had me rattled, but I didn’t show it.

He’d probably do what I asked. Get a phone under his name or someone else’s, and scrape together some cash—how much, I didn’t know. The issue was where to meet him.

Then the boss’s voice rang in my ears.

“Wanna drink?”

I chewed silently, then looked up.

“To cure the hangover.”

He smirked and called a staff member. Liquor came, and he poured it himself. I downed it with the meat in my stomach. The sharp, cold soju was water compared to the whiskey I’d been guzzling.

“How’s soju after a while?”

“Cool.”

“Let’s do the first round here, then the second at the place we planned.”

I felt her eyes watching us from afar. Staring at her nephew flipping meat, her thoughts were obvious.

“I heard you were sick as a kid.”

“Yeah. Faced death three times. First wife threw me as a newborn, second wife spiked my formula—nearly died—and then the house caught fire. Until I was five, I was sickly for no reason.”

“…Hard to imagine now.”

“I can’t either. When was I ever sick? Since I can remember, something uncontrollable’s always overflowed. Anger, rage, shitty feelings toward someone—I kept moving nonstop. But I wasn’t always like this. What choice did I have with ex-wives tormenting me? Had to grow into the temperament I was born with.”

“…”

“Had to match the level of the fifth gangster bastard who named me.”

He laughed casually. I’d once imagined his twenties. A guy unable to control overwhelming emotions, clinging 24/7 for love, flipping out if he didn’t see me for a day—I’d thought that Joo Geonwoo would be cute. But the real Joo Geonwoo isn’t. He grew up on vile, dirty things, doing stuff I can’t even fathom to get here.

Fuck. Suddenly, his face looked like a greasy pig. Chewing beef, I pictured him as a fat middle-aged man and couldn’t stand it.

“Ugh!”

Nausea hit. I clenched it down. He stopped flipping meat. I dumped my water cup and filled it with soju. Full to the brim, I chugged it. The bitter cold filled me, pushing the nausea down. His long eyes lifted, and he grinned.

“My Sunjung drinks well.”

The rushed liquor spread through me. I set down my chopsticks and finished the rest. He smiled wordlessly, tidying up. As he pulled out his wallet and headed to the counter, I wondered how much cash was in there.

That amount could let me escape right now. Today, he hadn’t called Kalbang or Woosung. If he showed the slightest gap, I could bolt—but I had no ID, no wallet, nothing.

Staring at the wallet with buzzed eyes, I locked gazes with him. Thinking I was looking at him, he reached out. Finding it pathetic, I grabbed the herbal bundle from his hand.

“I’ll carry it. Tell her I’ll eat it well later.”

I left the restaurant first. The two tourist buses were still parked.

Desperate to find an escape, my calm thoughts flipped, and I barely suppressed the urge to act rashly.

“From here, we take a boat.”

At his words, I followed him onto a small vessel. Haemi Cape, thick with reeds, required these boats to cross, he said. They ran frequently, with people coming and going.

That made me more restless. Mixing with sunglasses-wearing travelers, I wanted to slip into the tourist bus they’d ridden.

Anywhere—I just wanted to escape. To shed the stares and attention on me and him. Money didn’t matter anymore. I’d beg or toil at a construction site.

I watched his smirking face beside me as blankly as possible. He put a hand on my shoulder, pulling me closer. Seeing two guys cozy together, some ajummas giggled and cracked their usual jokes.

The boat reached the reeds. Filing off, I started noticing the chatter around me. They were on a 1-night, 2-day tour, ending here before heading back, they said. So they were noisy about taking good last photos.

“Bothering you?”

“Kinda, since they’re loud.”

Unlike me, he didn’t care about the looks or words aimed at us. Today, he seemed set on being smug. With that handsome face and body, he said, “A rare beauty in Yeonsan—take a good look, folks.” Keeping me close, he added, “We’ll have the ceremony next year.” People took it as a joke, naturally.

He walked, grinning, enjoying the praise about me. The reed field was nothing special. A marsh with unknown crustaceans and birds flying, wind from the sea and carved rocks blowing my hair.

“Sunjung-ah, look here.”

A click sounded. He’d taken my picture.

“Don’t.”

“Wondered why people set their lover’s photo as wallpaper—turns out it’s nice.”

He showed me his phone for the first time. My face was on the black screen, with folders for messages, calls, and banking apps.

“Pretty?”

“…”

“You know your face is gorgeous. That’s why you freaked when I mentioned plastic surgery—scared this flower-like mug would get scratched.”

I know. This face made me money as a host. So I had to keep it up. I walked along the decked path. He’d been here often, leading me to a quiet spot. Grass and his cologne mixed oddly. Down the calm path, restaurants appeared. Past a bike rental, eateries and cafes lined up.

He headed to a reserved spot. A fancy place serving meat pancakes and seafood. Inside, it was empty. Staff were prepping, guiding us to a seat with a ceramic bowl of warm towels.

“…Did you really book the whole place?”

“Yeah. So you can eat comfortably, Sunjung.”

Normally, I’d like it—no prying eyes, just us. But not now. Tourists would finish eating and leave the island soon. I needed to catch that boat, seize a chance—but they were too far to see.

“Guess I’ll have a drink here too.”

My heart throbbed. Him drinking meant calling Kalbang or Woosung. A driver showing up would make it harder. I couldn’t outdrink him, and getting drunk together would cloud my judgment—too obvious.

But his vibe was off. The leisurely smirk faded, and a strange glint flickered in his eyes.

My heart sank. Had he read my thoughts? Then—

“Weird.”

He tilted his head slowly.

“The chef’s face looks familiar.”

His gaze shot past me. Realizing it wasn’t aimed at me, I started to turn when he grinned and said,

“Sunjung should only look at me.”

Don’t turn around, he meant? Keeping my eyes on him, a cart with side dishes rolled up. Fancy plates hit the table, and he kept smiling.

“Specially prepared liquor—it’ll taste great.”

“Oh… yeah…”

“But Sunjung-ah, listen to me carefully from now on. Okay?”

The staff setting dishes vanished. His eyes locked on me alone. Feeling the eerie silence, he pulled a thick wallet from his coat. Placing one of his two phones on it, he said,

“Take this phone and wallet and slowly leave the restaurant.”

“…Huh?”

“Those tourists from earlier?”

A bad vibe crawled up my spine. Goosebumps rose in the chilling air as he tapped the phone, urging focus.

“Walk out and blend into them. The boat we took? Take it back if you want. Just don’t be alone—they’ll come soon.”

He grinned, meeting my eyes.

“Spend the money in the wallet—I’ll call you later. Buy whatever you want, Sunjung.”

Instinct screamed danger. Sharp gazes closed in from all sides. He raised an eyebrow, signaling me to grab the phone and wallet. My trembling hand reached out.

“You’ve figured it out too, huh?”

I clutched them, nodding.

“Eh, happens sometimes. No big deal.”

He laughed like it was nothing. Seeing his deep, handsome eyes curve, I felt like a fool. So focused on escaping, I’d missed everything. A deadly chill crept up my neck, and I’d been clueless.

“Don’t look back. Don’t flinch if eyes meet. Got it?”

Fear rooted my feet. But I couldn’t delay. Gripping the wallet and phone, I stood. Dragging the chair back, a footstep sounded. I froze, but he smiled reassuringly.

“It’s fine. Go.”

I don’t recall how I left. Standing, passing a plant, seeing an empty counter—maybe two men with sashimi knives—but I couldn’t process it. Like in a vacuum, no sound, smell, or air. Then I was running, leaving rough curses behind, sprinting blindly. Time felt heavy, limbs trembling as if a knife would stab my back.

Like Orpheus in the myth, I ran forward only. Free from the harsh breaths chasing me, I plunged into the noisy tourists.

A gangster outside hid a sharp knife, scanning around. I followed a flag-waving, shouting guide, blending in, shrinking down. “We’ll move as a group now!” someone yelled, and tears burst out.

Relief I’d survived—I nearly collapsed. But through welling tears, I saw the boss smiling at me. What would happen to him? How many knife-wielding bastards were in there? Who sent them, and why target him? No clue, but he’d face them alone, no doubt.

He’ll die. Probably dead. But is it okay for just me to escape like this?

I fumbled with his phone screen. It was locked—no password. If he’d wanted me to call Kalbang, he’d have told me the code or unlocked it. Not doing so—did it mean stay out?

I didn’t know. Shaking, I couldn’t do more. Eyes full of fear, I scanned around. No knife-wielding guy among the tourists.

Relief mixed with lingering terror. Wiping tears, I moved away from the restaurant.

I took the boat back to land. Disembarking, tourist buses lined up. Swept along, I reached them. Dazed briefly, I recalled my original goal.

I’d resolved to escape him. The whole time, I’d fixated on tourist buses, plotting my chance to slip away.

This was it. The first—maybe last—shot to break free. Heart pounding, I boarded a random bus with the crowd.

Out of it, but once moving, my feet sped up. Only one thought—get out. I had to seize this. But it wasn’t easy. Every seat had an owner, none yielding.

I kept boarding and leaving buses. People thought I’d lost mine, calling guides over.

Finally, I climbed onto the last bus at the lot’s edge—a big airport limo type. A sunglasses-wearing driver barked to sit fast.

“Check if your buddy’s next to you. Speak now, or you’ll be left behind.”

No objections. The guy beside me, drunk, flirted with women across the aisle—distracted.

Good. The door shut with a heavy thud, and the bus rolled out. As it jolted, people drew curtains over the tinted windows.

Liquor popped out everywhere. The guy next to me grabbed a plastic soju bottle and paper cups, handing me one with a bag of dried squid as a snack.

“Let’s party! Cheers! Cheers!!”

The alcohol smell choked me up. Reality crashed in, loud and clear.

Yes, I’m leaving Yeonsan. Leaving a likely doomed boss behind, I’m out. Music blared from speakers—rowdy trot songs. People sang along. I downed the cup in one go, wiping tears off my cheeks.

I prayed this unexpected escape would succeed.

The further from Yeonsan, the drunker I got. People, hyped up, bounced around the bus, mixing drinks I didn’t know who offered.

The bus left Yeonsan completely, heading toward Seoul.

The noise paused as we hit a rest stop. The second it stopped, people rushed out to pee. I’d downed a bottle of soju, so I headed for the bathroom—then froze at my reflection.

The buzz vanished. I stood out in a flashy stadium jacket and quality white knit, no common cap to hide I’d run.

I hurried to an outdoor gear shop with sale racks. An older woman asked what I needed. I said a plain black jacket, then noticed something missing.

The boss’s phone—stuffed in my pocket—was gone. Both pockets had been heavy, but now only the wallet remained.

I bolted from the shop to the bus. It was dark, headlights everywhere. I searched my seat, explained, and had the lights turned on—no luck. “Seen a phone?” I asked. Nothing.

Fuck, where’d I drop it?

It was there on the boat—clutched in my shaking hand, shoved in my pocket. Had it fallen out hopping between buses? I’d been kicked off fake seats four-plus times—natural I wouldn’t know where.

Stunned, I couldn’t speak. Losing his phone now—of all things—felt absurd. Not like I’d see him again. And I still had the wallet—no starving yet.

The bus rolled out, people sang and drank harder. I was a mess, but it didn’t matter. Being away from Yeonsan was enough—then I remembered my ID and bankbook in my bag, biting my lip.

What could I do without an ID? The wallet was stuffed with 50,000-won bills. I could survive on this for now—something would turn up. The driver explained the route.

It’d hit Daejeon, then Nonsan, ending at Sejong City Station. Daejeon tempted me, but it’d been too long—practically foreign now.

Still, I decided to get off at Daejeon Tollgate. Stepping into the cold, my breath puffed white. I grabbed a taxi, asking for Icheon since it could do long hauls.

Icheon was all I could think of. Actually, I’d blurted it after hearing an Icheon festival ad in the cab. We drove through the night. It was 10 p.m. when we arrived.

I took another Icheon taxi, asking for a quiet spot to rest. The driver glanced at me, asking if I was an outsider. Nodding, I asked if there were guesthouses, not hotels. He said Icheon had a few, luckily.

He drove down dark roads flanked by fields and rice paddies, stopping at a two-story house by a mountain.

“Here you are.”

“Thanks.”

I pulled cash from the boss’s wallet, paid, and got out. The driver stepped out too, cutting the engine.

“Honey, I’m home.”

I turned as he called to the lit house. In a light puffer, he said, “This is my place.”

“You’re alone, right?”

“Yeah… probably.”

“Then stay here. We’ll provide breakfast, lunch, and dinner on time. There’s a separate bathroom, and over there’s a sink and washer—use them freely.”

I was surprised, but it wasn’t bad. The house was new, clean, with all a typical home had—a big wall-mounted TV, AC, massage chair, and baby stuff. Spicy stir-fried pork wafted from the kitchen.

“Babe, you’re back? Hungry? I made spicy ribs—oh my gosh!”

The wife saw me enter with him and widened her eyes. Hesitating, I watched as he walked in, shedding his puffer.

“He’ll stay a few days. A guest from out of town, looking for somewhere quiet.”

He introduced me without needing to.

“Who sent him?”

“Who else? He’s in Icheon, so he’s one of us. Stop digging—feed us.”

He brought a stranger in without her okay. Maybe trying to help, but I wasn’t here for freebies.

“Hello. I’m from Seoul. I’ll stay quietly and leave. I’ll pay for the room and meals properly.”

I hurriedly added a few words and went into the bathroom. Closing the door and standing in front of the sink, I finally noticed my ghostly pale face. There were dried tear tracks, my expression was practically a death mask, and my eyes were bloodshot from the alcohol.

Looking like this… anyone would think I needed help. On top of that, searching for a guesthouse instead of a hotel to stay quietly probably made me look like some guy hunting for a place to die.

I turned on the sink, washed my face, and thought it over. Was escaping really the right choice for survival? Would the boss still be alive? Would I have gone crazy if I’d stayed by his side? I didn’t know. This was a chance given by the heavens, and I was just making good use of it.

I pulled out the wallet and finally checked its contents calmly. There were three cards, including one from a regional bank. Dozens of checks—1 million won and 100,000 won denominations—and the most were 50,000-won bills. I decided to ditch the cards and not use the checks either.

Just in case, I rummaged through the deepest part of the wallet. No ID. I let out a sigh then. I hadn’t even grabbed my own stuff—if his ID had been there, the reality would’ve hit even harder.

Wiping my face, I stepped into the living room. The hostess gestured me to the table. Eating face-to-face with a stranger was tough. When the food wouldn’t go down, the driver handed me a bowl of scorched rice tea and said,

“I’m Kim.”

“…I’m Lee Soyoon.”

“Can I speak casually?”

“Sure. Please do.”

“There’s a room on the second floor—you can stay there. It’s got a door to the outside and one straight up from the main house. The washing machine’s up there too, so run it if laundry’s a hassle. The heating’s individual, so don’t skimp—turn it on. If it’s cold, ask for more blankets.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

“Got any clothes to change into?”

Come to think of it, I had nothing. The hostess chimed in perceptively.

“I dug some out while you were eating. They’re my son’s old clothes—looks like they’ll fit you. He’s in the military now, not a picky kid, so let me know if you need more. I’ll find them.”

Lucky break. Picking Icheon on a whim, hopping into a random taxi—it all felt like it was meant to be. After eating, I went upstairs. The rural house had a corner piled with rice, barley, and dried herbs for winter, plus rows of homemade liquor bottles.

Opening the room’s door, I saw a wardrobe and a desk. The hostess had laid out bedding on the floor, and warmth was circulating.

I sat down and finally let myself cry quietly. Relief or dread—I couldn’t tell which.

˚｡⋆

A full day passed since leaving Yeonsan, and I slept through it. I didn’t step outside once. It was the afternoon of the second day when the hostess knocked on my door.

It wasn’t just “Come eat.” She handed me rubber gloves and fur-lined boots, speaking shyly.

“My husband can’t eat without white kimchi. It’s market day today, so there’s no one to help. I’m fine with the rest, but could you grab what I point out? Please?”

It was absurd, but I couldn’t refuse. Fresh from sleep, I went downstairs, threw on a thick padded jacket and pants she lent me, and stepped into the yard. White breath puffed out. Had it gotten this cold? Then I saw a big rubber tub of cabbages in the middle of the yard, with washed white radishes and freshly pulled green onions nearby.

“My husband needs raw shrimp in it too, so it’s a lot of work. When my son was here, he’d always help, but now he’s in the military, and I’m on my own…”

She was chatty. Unlike the middle-aged women I knew, her gaze was just that of a mom looking at her son’s peer. No malice—just tales of her cheating husband, his mistress, hotel room rentals—instead, she gossiped about neighbors and bragged about her son, due to discharge next year. Her daughter was at university in Seoul, smart enough for grad school, she said, laughing.

They’d built this house two years ago—costly, but enough for them. Relatives visited sometimes, but now that they’re older, even that’s a hassle, she said.

Mr. Kim didn’t drink but loved snacks. He didn’t drink yet brewed liquor to give away, buying pine needles, apples, ginseng every season—money that could’ve funded a hundred overseas trips, she said, handing me a split cabbage.

“Sprinkle salt lightly and stack them neatly. It’s a chore at first, but it’s kinda fun. Sprinkling salt, I think of my nagging sister-in-law, the harsh in-law life, the humiliations. With barely any education, my husband clung to me like his life depended on it.”

“…”

“It’s like the saltiness melts away—that’s human hearts.”

“…”

“The wilting cabbage looks like me aging, or my old man. Then it gets tasty—sour and appetizing. With steamed winter sweet potatoes, it’s a delicacy.”

A gentle, plain comfort. How many times had she paced by my door to say this? Taking back untouched porridge, bringing fresh soybean paste soup—she’d hesitated, conflicted, before mustering the courage to hand me those gloves.

I sprinkled salt on the cabbage. As white grains fell, she covered her mouth with her small, plump hand and giggled. I curled my lips too.

Beaming, she pulled her phone from her pocket, pressed 1 long, and soon shouted loud enough to echo through the yard.

“Honey, sweetheart! Grab some meat on your way back! I’ll cook it tasty! Hey! Drive safe! See you later!”

The cabbages piled up, and I willingly offered my back and arms. I scrubbed radishes, rinsed salted cabbages, wiped down a chest-high kimchi jar, and tasted the seasoning. My hands stung, my nose burned, my back ached, my spine felt split.

Yet my face didn’t sour. How do moms do this? A new realization—and moving my body cleared stray thoughts.

“Tomorrow, come to the bathhouse with me.”

“Bathhouse?”

“There’s this place in Icheon, Sutan Pavilion—used to be a hermitage-like temple. The village head spent big to turn it into a bathhouse. Only locals use it, but the water’s so good, one visit wipes out all fatigue. You’ll feel it too, Soyoon.”

From “bachelor” to “Soyoon,” I nodded and finished up.

Evening came quietly, and I faced Mr. Kim again. He was a man of few words, not overweight for a long-time private taxi driver. He ate early, swept the yard, took out trash his wife set aside, did bare-handed exercises outside, and locked up when it got cold.

Back in my room, I stared blankly at the dark sky. It’s fine for now. Quiet, uneventful. Maybe I’d overthought it all—made it bigger than it was.

No matter how wild the boss was, he was just a bar owner. No matter how scary, he had no right to own a grown man. He’d forced sexual acts on me—a relationship born of coercion.

He held me countless times, prodding my hole, wanting me “pure.” Calling me Sunjung, he sought a purity he lacked, expecting it from me. That’s why it all crumbled and twisted. No—he should’ve never kept me by his side.

I choose who I like—not some guy swayed by others’ feelings for me. Outside of picking clients as a host, I grab what I want.

Suddenly, I felt he wouldn’t come looking. He’d said I couldn’t go to Seoul, but maybe he’d lost all attachment after I ditched him—too disgusted to face me. In a life-or-death moment, he might spit at the cowardly hustler who fled to save himself.

Or he’s in a coma now, oblivious that I took his wallet. I gnawed at lips he’d bitten dozens of times. Dawn came, and I thought I heard a car. Unconsciously, I leaned by the window. The dark room let no light leak. Still, my heart raced.

A swish of tires. I peeked out. A car—a red Pride—passed the house, driving down the rural road before stopping far off. Then a voice.

“Mommy!!”

A baby’s bright cry. I sighed, dropping my head with a thunk.

It was the third night since fleeing Yeonsan.